


Cowboy Up

by shrift



Category: Wilby Wonderful (2004)
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-10
Updated: 2007-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrift/pseuds/shrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan wondered how long Duck had been smiling at him, and if he had missed it somehow by keeping his head down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cowboy Up

**Author's Note:**

> Pearl-o asked for Duck/Dan with candy.

The day Dan was released from hospital, Duck walked him out the front door and into the parking lot, and then asked him to bed. Dan stood next to Duck's truck and blinked for a moment. He saw Duck's teeth in the quick flash of his smile. Dan wondered how long Duck had been smiling at him, and if he had missed it somehow by keeping his head down.

"I mean, I'll be on the couch," Duck said. "I just. I don't have a guest bedroom."

"I, uh..." Dan said, dithering. He liked Duck. Dan didn't want to impose, although he was pretty sure Duck wouldn't think of it as an imposition.

"What do you say?" Duck asked.

"I think I'll stay at the Wildwood for now," Dan said. "I feel like I need to prove that I can still take care of myself."

Duck touched his arm. "You don't need to prove anything to me or anyone else on this island."

"To myself, I think I do," Dan told him.

Duck stared at him, his face calm and thoughtful. "Okay," he said. "Your car's at my place. Buddy and I drove it over."

Duck got in his truck, and Dan climbed into the passenger side. His knees bumped against the dash and a paint roller poked his calf.

"Thanks," Dan said. "For everything. I don't know how..."

Duck rested his hands on the steering wheel. His fingers were long and lean, flecks of gray paint stuck in the light hair on his forearms and wrists. "You don't have to thank me."

"Yes, I do."

Duck closed his hands around the steering wheel once, and then let go. "No, I mean. You're alive. That's pretty good."

"It's good," Dan agreed.

Duck smiled again, slow and sweet, and if Dan had been holding anything, he would have dropped it and possibly broken his toes.

* * *

The next day, Duck knocked on Dan's motel room door and asked him on a date.

"A date?" Dan asked.

Duck scratched the back of his neck. His shirt looked new. "Not a real date. Just my crappy couch and the VCR."

"It sounds wonderful," Dan said.

Duck's house was small and cluttered, but nice. Homey, like Dan's house had never been. They watched Dan's copy of _Stagecoach_, and they shared a bag of microwave popcorn and a box of Smarties. Duck ate all the yellow candies.

Halfway through the movie, Dan found himself saying, "Technically, I'm not divorced."

Duck looked at him, his hand hovering between the remote and the chocolate. "Yeah?"

"We haven't signed the papers yet," Dan said. "So, technically speaking, I'm still married."

The skin around Duck's eyes creased as if he was trying not to smile. "Okay."

"I just wanted to tell you in case you cared about that sort of thing," Dan said.

"I do, but I think we're okay," Duck said.

"Good," Dan said. He shook a handful of popcorn from the bag and turned back to the movie. Once his hands were empty, Duck reached over and laced their fingers together. Dan spent ten minutes staring blankly at Duck's small television screen and not actually seeing anything.

"Can we --" Dan asked, turning blindly, and then Duck kissed him. It was soft but sure, Duck's hands cupping Dan's face. Duck rubbed his thumbs over Dan's stubble. Dan closed his eyes and opened his mouth, and they kissed until the TV screen went black. They kissed until Dan's lips were hot and slippery, until his jaw ached a little, until Dan could open his eyes and watch Duck touch him, his fingers warm and welcome on Dan's neck, his wrist, the small of his back where his shirt came untucked from his pants.

"It's late," Duck said finally. "I can drive you back --"

"I'll stay," Dan said. "If that's all right with you."

"Yeah," Duck said. He touched Dan's cheek, kissed his forehead and his lips. "It's all right with me."

* * *

The next morning over coffee, Dan said, "That was the best date I've been on in almost fifteen years."

Duck handed him a box of sugar and a plastic bottle of creamer. "We can do better than that."

Dan hid his face in his mug of coffee and blinked rapidly, trying to stop the heat behind his eyes from turning into something embarrassing. Duck brushed his fingers over Dan's nape. He shivered.

"Hey," Duck said. "Come on, I'll buy you a doughnut at Iggy's."

"People will talk," Dan said.

Duck shrugged. "They'll always talk."

"Even if we're boring?" Dan asked.

"Then they'll probably think you're a serial killer," Duck said, holding out Dan's coat.

"A gay serial killer," Dan said.

"'He seemed so straight'," Duck said. "Come on."

Dan pulled on his coat. "Okay."


End file.
